


Cold Coffee and Too Many Bagels

by sleapea



Series: Cinnamon Bagels and Peppermint Tea [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist!Keith, Baker!Lance, Firefighter!Shiro, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Indoor Marketplace, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Marketplace AU, Pining Keith (Voltron), Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), The broganes is strong in this one, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, asdfghfdsa, broganes, but i do say ass, if you think that i am not 100 percent projecting onto shiro, im marking it as general audience, oh no i said it again, older siblings unite, you're wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 01:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19861207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleapea/pseuds/sleapea
Summary: The third part of theCinnamon Bagels and Peppermint Tea Series, in which Lance owns a cute marketplace bakery, and Shiro tries his damn best to make sure his delinquent brother knows about it. Alternative Title: Shiro is the ultimate wingman and Keith has a gay crisis.





	Cold Coffee and Too Many Bagels

Shiro was standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand, when Keith stormed into their living room. The room was dim, aglow with the light from the setting sun and nothing else. 

Even in the fading light, the first thing Shiro noticed was that Keith looked… more put together than usual, to say the least. Shiro immediately dismissed the storming… that was the usual for Keith. But wearing his hair in a neat braid down the side of his neck, rather than his usual, messy bun? Now _that_ was new. So was wearing a nice pair of black jeans and a grey, fitted crew neck instead of a hoodie and sweatpants. And, by the astonishing lack of wrinkles, Shiro could tell that they were from his closet, not his bedroom floor. The last time he saw Keith this neat, it had been at their mother’s second wedding. Two years ago.

He watched intently, knowing full well that Keith was pointedly ignoring him. He remained quiet as Keith shrugged on his leather jacket by the front door, and as he laced up his boots. It was only when Keith turned to face the door and wrapped his hand around the doorknob that Shiro asked: “Where are you going?”

Keith flinched, hand pausing around the knob. He slowly looked over his shoulder, expression guarded. Shiro grinned. 

“To the bakery,” he grumbled. 

Shiro shifted so that he could prop his hip against the kitchen counter. When he was comfortable, he took a long, slow sip of coffee. Under his unwavering gaze, Keith began to squirm, a small flush creeping up his cheeks. If Shiro didn’t know any better, he’d almost say that his baby brother looked _sheepish_. 

“Do you… want anything?” 

“Oh, no, no. I’m good,” Shiro answered casually. He waved him off, took another slow sip of his coffee. Keith prickled. 

“What do you want?” he snapped. As usual, Keith didn’t try to hide how annoyed he was. Although, Shiro didn’t think Keith _could_ hide how he felt, even if he did want to. 

Either way, as usual, Shiro ignored it.

“Hmm? Nothing,” he shrugged, expression neutral.

“Shiro,” Keith deadpanned, finally taking his hand from the knob and turning to fully face his brother. “I’ve known you my entire life,” he paused, taking the time to breathe in heavy, collect himself. Then, he crossed his arms and raised a frustrated brow, exhaling as he levelled him with a stare. “I know when you’re full of shit.” 

“Easy there, cowboy,” Shiro chuckled. He raised his mug to his lips again, but paused before taking a sip, as if deep in thought. “How many times have you gone to the bakery this week, Keith?” Keith’s eyes widened, like the question caught him off guard. 

“...why?” he asked slowly. 

“Humour me.” 

Keith narrowed his eyes at him, holding his gaze. Shiro met his eyes easily, amused smile on his face all the while. It never took long for Keith to crack— usually, his impatience or his curiosity had him caving right… _about..._

Keith broke their eyes with a loud huff, an exaggerated eye roll. “Fine, you win,” he mumbled, cheeks flushed and frustrated. Shiro tried to stifle his laugh behind his mug, but if the glare Keith shot him was anything to go by, he didn’t do a very good job.

“I went on Monday… after finishing a commission,” he began tentatively, gaze shifting in concentration. “Tuesday when you worked late, because I didn’t feel like making dinner. Then… again on Wednesday becau—”

“Keith,” Shiro cut him off with an amused chuckle. " _How many times?_ ” 

Keith let out a frustrated sigh and shot him a look, but Shiro merely laughed. Frowning, Keith began to count on his fingertips. “1, 2, 3…” he mumbled under his breath “...6?”

“What day is it today?” Shiro prodded. Keith paused. 

“...Friday?” 

Shiro nodded, but kept quiet. Patiently, he waited until... 

Keith’s eyes widened as the lightbulb flicked on. 

“That’s way too many times, isn’t it…” Keith began, entirely to himself. He instantly took to pacing back and forth, back and forth, like he was trying to run a small line into the floor. “Holy shit. What does he think of me? Is that weird?” He stared down at the ground in horror for a moment before bursting aloud. “Who eats that many bagels, of course it’s weird!” 

Shiro simply watched, content to let Keith talk this one out himself. 

“I definitely shouldn’t go. You’re right, yeah, no way,” Keith continued, decidedly. He was silent for all of 5 seconds before he slumped, the reality of what he’d just resolved sinking in. “But… I want to see him,” he whispered, face fallen. He looked just like a kicked puppy. 

“And the truth comes out,” Shiro laughed. His little brother was so smitten— it was sweet, if Shiro was being honest. 

“What did you do??” Keith whirled on him then, eyes wide and questioning. 

“Pardon me?” Shiro asked, stunned. 

“What did you do with Allura?” 

Shiro blushed, caught off guard for the first time that evening. “Oh, uh… that was a long time ago.” He tried to laugh light-heartedly, but it sounded more like a strangled cough than anything else. “Mmm… yeah. I’m pretty old. Can’t seem to remember.” Without missing a beat, he glanced down at the underside of his wrist. “Wow, look at the time. Better head to bed…”

He wasn’t wearing a watch.

“Shiro! Come _on,”_ Keith whined, features morphing into his signature “ _Shiro caves every time I make this face_ ” expression. And, he was right. Shiro _did_ cave every time he made that expression. 

Shiro groaned. 

“You already know the story!” He appealed, a little indignant. 

“Humour me.” Keith shot back, and Shiro flinched. Oh, how he hated it when his own tricks were used against him. 

“I miss when you used to be cute, you know? Like when you were really small. And couldn’t talk,” he sighed, defeated.

“ _Shiro_ …” 

“FINE. Fine,” he relented. “But only because I’m an _adult_ who is _mature_ now.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Psh, yeah. Okay.” 

Shiro narrowed his eyes at Keith, but all his little brother did was shrug. Shiro huffed, took to pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He tried his best to act annoyed, but he couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. 

When he was a senior in highschool, Shiro had been captain of the boy’s soccer team. Allura had been captain of the girl’s team. They’d hardly known each other until Shiro caught word that one of his freshmen had been heckling the girl’s team after practice. 

To this day, Shiro isn’t quite sure how it happened. Somehow, the girl’s team ended up challenging the boys to a friendly match, an opportunity to put their money where their mouths were. And, Shiro could hardly refuse, given it had been _his_ rookie who prompted the match in the first place.

The girl’s team ended up winning 3 - 2. Shiro will never forget the way Allura handled the ball, knocking him right off his feet, literally _and_ figuratively, to score the winning goal. To this day, her graceful footwork was something he still marvelled every time he watched her play.

“I… well, you know how the match went,” Shiro said, and Keith snorted. Shiro elbowed him in the side before continuing, as though Keith hadn't interrupted. “Pretty hard to… look cool after someone knocks you down like that.” 

Keith scowled as he rubbed at his side, but his eyes remained attentive. 

“I went up to her after the match and asked her to prom.” 

“Right there?”

Shiro smiled at the fond memory. “Right there,” he nodded. 

“Right after she kicked your ass?” 

“She didn't _kick_ my ass—” 

“She still said _yes_?”

“Well, first she laughed so hard she choked on her gatorade…”

“I can’t believe this worked out for you,” Keith mumbled.

“Me neither,” Shiro laughed, “but… she liked that, I guess. Said most guys would have been walking away with their tails between their legs by now. Which, they were. The rest of the team.” Shiro laughed to himself, expression gone completely soft. Keith made a face that he pretended not to notice.

“That didn’t help me at all,” he frowned, glaring at his brother as if his current predicament was entirely his fault. Which… in a way, it was. 

“You wanted to know!” Shiro instantly sputtered, indignant. 

“I thought you’d be more useful!” Keith snapped back, and Shiro felt downright scandalized. He gaped in the silence that fell over them both as Keith took to pouting, arms crossed and brows comically furrowed. 

“Hmm, well, if I'm not useful, I guess I’ll just keep this next part to myself,” he spoke slowly as the thought hit him, grinning at Keith as his little brother perked his head up. 

“What next part…?” He asked, tentative. It was hopeful, despite the lingering pout he wore. 

“The part where I met Lance’s sister this week,” Shiro admitted, grin turning from playful to downright devilish as Keith’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. 

“WHAT— and you didn’t _tell_ me?” 

“Because I knew you’d…” he waved a hand, gesturing to Keith and his current state. His face was flushed a deep red, the heat dispersed in messy patches across his neck and cheeks. His eyes were still comically wide, and his body was wound taut like a spring. “Freak out.” 

“I’m not freaking out!” Keith blurted, tone loud and splintering at the edges. 

“Obviously.” 

“ _Shiro,”_ Keith whined. He didn't say anything more aloud, but his eyes were practically screaming " _help me._ " And, oh, he was making the face again. 

“She’s worried about him,” he looked down at his mug as he spoke, raised it to his lips. Immediately, he made a face— to his dismay, his coffee had gone cold. He set his mug down on the counter with a frown. So much for enjoying a nice, relaxing cup of coffee after dinner.

“Worried, why?” Keith drew him back to the present with his quick response. His posture had completely deflated, all anger having dissipated into genuine concern. 

“She says he works too hard. Hardly ever leaves the bakery,” he continued, and Keith’s frown deepened. 

“Oh...” he whispered.

“Yeah. She wishes he’d…” Shiro paused, contemplating for a moment. “Take more time for himself.” Keith looked utterly defeated, expression alight with worry. Shiro, on the other hand... 

“Why… are you smiling?” Keith accused. He asked the question like he didn’t want to hear the answer. Of course, Shiro provided it anyway. 

“I told her we could help,” he said simply. 

“We can?” Keith blinked, incredulous. 

“Well, I told her _you_ could help,” Shiro reached out a finger and lightly poked Keith in the centre of his chest. 

“ _Me_?” Keith choked, staring down at Shiro’s hand in disbelief. “How am I supposed to—” 

“Take him out tomorrow,” Shiro cut him off quickly, knowing his brother’s propensity to panic spiral. Keith looked like a boiling kettle, flushed and steaming and ready to—

“WHAT!” he burst. Shiro shrugged, doing his best to feign nonchalance.

“The bakery will be closed. She said Lance should have a free day,” Shiro explained, doing his best to stay casual for the sake of his brother’s quickly fading sanity. “You can help him clear his mind.” 

“Why would Lance want to go anywhere with me?” Keith mumbled under his breath. Shiro sighed. 

“Do you want to help him?” Keith looked up at him in surprise. His expression was earnest and genuine, making him look like a little kid again. 

“Of course I do, but—” 

“No buts. Do you want to help him, or not?” At that, Keith’s brows creased, and he flushed a little deeper. 

“Yeah…” he averted his eyes, speaking to the fridge instead of Shiro. It didn’t matter, Shiro had what he needed. 

“Then trust me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes Shiro is literally drinking coffee at like 8pm. Don’t judge him.
> 
> \-- --- --
> 
>   
> Click [here](https://linktr.ee/sleapea) for links to my socials 💕 (most active on instagram!)


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